Black Heart, Suicide Notes, Unloved

Would it surprise you to know that I have written a suicide note?

As it stands, this note is essentially a placeholder that will never be used.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying that I would commit suicide. I just don’t plan on leaving a note. Why bother? Much better to just vanish without saying why. After all, like ransom notes, you don’t get awards for composing a suicide note.

So why did I write a suicide note. As a statement of intent to myself. I had to be clear with myself with why I plan on doing it: one of the things that people do after the death of a loved one is comment on how they must have been mentally unstable or “not right in the head” or insane. I can’t have that. Not that it really matters what people think.

I am perfectly sane. I am not mentally unstable. I am right headwise. Every thought and deed of mine is logical and well-reasoned. I just don’t want to be alive.

I am tired of being unloved and unwanted and alone. I have had enough. All I want is to be in love with someone who knows me better than I know myself. Is that too much to ask?

Alas, it is not to be. I don’t want to face the next fifty years alone. So that is it.

I will not kill myself. At least not at the moment. I am stubborn enough to carry on for a little while but the fact of existence is ultimately too daunting to me.

Below is the suicide note. Make of it what you will.

I think this may be my final internet entry. No more Twitter or blogs or email, all stopped.

I may not be in a condition to continue them and so it is with heavy-heart that I step away from it all. For good.

I am not going to tell you my reasons for doing so. Only that my decision was made for me by life etc.

Thank you all who have been friends and talked to a lonely young man from England. I cannot possibly repay you back with the friendship that you deserve because I really am just a broken human being.

I wish it didn’t have to be this way but it is the only way.

Thank you and goodbye.





About greebohobbes

All-round irritant, expert swordsman (loves lopping off the heads of ghouls), professional charlatan and outrageous wearer of black cocktail dresses...
This entry was posted in BekHobbes, depression, existence, hope/despair, loss, opinion, reallife, sorrow, suicide. Bookmark the permalink.

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